


Shelter

by TheRavenintheMoon



Series: Long Lost Souls [6]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Home, Shaman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRavenintheMoon/pseuds/TheRavenintheMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House Hunters meets World of Warcraft. Periell really just wants to find the ideal place to live...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I probably own nothing, except maybe my characters. I know that Blizzard, however, owns a small chunk of my soul...

**_Shelter_ **

**_Periell_ **

_Ironforge_

"It's a little small," Periell said, frowning at the dwarf standing beside her. "For the price."

"Fer th' price!" the dwarf exclaimed. His dark beard was carefully groomed and slicked into two fine points. His eyes were small, even when opened fully in faux shock. "Miss, fer this price in Stormwind or anywhere else, ye couldnae get a wee hole in th' ground!"

"Well," Periell said, not buying the quintessential sales pitch as she stepped further into the room for rent. Wide innocent eyes, more focused on some personal reality than the solid world, took in her surroundings. The fireplace drew the most attention; from the soot on the facing and mantle, it probably smoked badly. There was soot in the tattered bearskin rug as well. Sniffing, the shaman delicately stepped around the rug, her hooves tapping on bare stone. She bent to the lone cabinet in the room.

"There's not much space in here," she said, reaching for the handle.

"Don't!" the dwarf yelped. Periell froze. The dwarf let out a shaky laugh. "Tha's not included in th' rent," he said, making her hope whatever he was keeping inside was legal.

"Oh," Periell sighed. She turned. There was one table, dwarf-height of course, and the top was stained and scarred. She didn't ask what had happened to it. The bedclothes looked as tattered as the rug, and somehow, she didn't think they would be replaced before anyone moved in. And there was the poor rug to consider—though, to be fair, most of Ironforge was furnished with such (generally cleaner) rugs.

She turned to the dwarf. "You know, you're right. For this price, you are selling a hole in the ground. Could you please direct me to the inn?"

Her arched horns scraped the top of the door on the way out.

∞

_Stormwind_

"And I thought the other room was small," Periell complained, frowning at the human beside her.

"You won't find larger in Stormwind, dear," the blonde proprietress said. She was far into her middle-age, and had the temper of a street vendor, though she had run this shop since her husband had died in the war years ago. "Not unless you've got the money or status to stay up on the hill." She nodded slightly derisively towards the Keep.

Periell smiled weakly. Ever loyal, she couldn't understand the woman's attitude. Shaking her head, she banged her horns with a hollow sound against the ceiling, a reminder that she was crouched under the slope of the roof in an unfurnished room above a shop in Stormwind's Trade District. Several crates were stacked at the far end, giving the attic that homey feel everyone was searching for, and a garret window let in the noise and smell of the city borne on a hot breeze. "Does it ever quiet down?" Periell asked, raising her voice as raucous laughter drifted up louder than the general rumble of voices in the square below.

"A couple hours a night, if that," the proprietress said. "This is the city, dear, it never sleeps. What did you expect, in a prime location like this one?"

"Oh," Periell sighed, again ignoring the obvious sales pitch at the end of that statement. Against her better judgment, she asked one more question. "Will there be, you know, furniture?"

"Oh, Light's sake, I run a small shop, not a bloody bed and breakfast!" the proprietress exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "You'll have to make do, like the rest of us."

Periell nodded, and slowly backed away far enough to stand straight before heading for the stairs.

"No thanks," she said unnecessarily, as the woman shut the door in her face, muttering about idiot idealists.

∞

_The_ Exodar

"I suppose I could just stay here," Periell murmured doubtfully to herself. But a pallet in an, admittedly, private corner of the crashed  _Exodar_  just couldn't quite give the shaman the sense of home she was looking for. She wanted privacy in a city. She wanted a roof over her head, walls to hold her close, a soft bed, and a wardrobe. And, preferably, a ceiling high enough to accommodate her height. Oh, and some peace. And quiet. Was that really so much to ask?

∞

_Darnassus_

"I'll take it," Periell said, her voice muffled by the sound of the rain falling outside and the fact that she had stuck her head inside one of the wardrobes. Roomy, even with some old, travel-worn robes hanging to one side and a couple pairs of muddy boots littering the bottom. An extra set of sheets, a light shade of purple like the fresh set on the bed, rested in the wardrobe as well. The bed, she thought as she turned to look at it, was quite inviting. The books on the case and stacked on the table, even at first glance, revealed a wide range of interesting topics. The room was large, airy—literally, as it only had three walls. The rain poured past in a neat curtain across the opening. Periell breathed in the scent of damp grass and the calm of Darnassus. Yes, she could get used to this.

The night elf standing just inside the room hesitated. "There are some…conditions," she said, bouncing nervously.

"Oh," Periell sighed. She had thought that surely, this time…

"It's just—my current lodgers would like to split the rent," she said, twirling her purple braid in an old habit.

"Lodgers?" Periell asked. "There's only one bed."

"They are rarely here," the night elf smiled, as if letting Periell in on a secret. "They are heroes. They fly in for a night or so, and then fly off again on important business."

"Why did they advertise for a lodger, then?" Periell wondered out loud.

"They recently found lodgings in Shattrath. They were hoping to lower costs here, so they could still keep this room as well."

Periell ran a hand along a bookshelf, thinking. She was a hero herself, just looking for a place for a few nights, somewhere to think longingly of when the battles ran long and weary… "So, when one of them turns up, they'd get first priority on the bed?" she asked for clarification.

"Preferably," the night elf said. "They'd also like to retain access to the wardrobes, though they are more than willing to give you your own drawer and some space. The books are theirs, as well, though I'm sure you could borrow some."

"Hm," Periell hummed to herself. "How often are they here?"

"Oh, maybe a week total, in a month. They're quite busy."

Before Periell could reply, a worgen and a draenei ran into the room, cloaks dripping on the hardwood floor. They both, nearly simultaneously, shook the water from their eyes, then smiled. "We're just here to pick up Dindrane's notes on the best places to find goldthorn. We won't be a minute," the worgen said, seemingly in explanation to the landlady, as she crossed to the dresser, searching for something.

The draenei nodded to Periell. "You must have seen our advertisement? Are you looking for an alchemist, a tailor, a jewelcrafter, or a scribe? We can also put you in touch with an engineer…"

Periell was shaking her head. "I'm looking for a place to stay."

The worgen and the draenei glanced at each other. Then the worgen smiled. "There's that, too. I'm Sophrynia. This is Janariana. If you manage to stay on for a month or so, I might even throw a free glyph your way."

Periell didn't mention that she already knew a scribe willing to work for free. Instead she said, "You can't keep a lodger?"

"Not on our terms. We make…interesting roommates. Not that we want to discourage you," Janariana said, grimacing slightly.

"Did you say you knew an alchemist?" Periell asked.

Again, that glance, as if the two could speak without talking. "Yes," Sophrynia said.

"Do you think she'd be willing to compare notes with me?" Periell asked hopefully. She loved to talk shop, but knew very few in her profession.

The other two smiled. "I'm sure she would," Janariana said.

Periell's smile broadened. "Then, if you don't mind, I think I'd like to stay."

They shook hands. "Welcome to our band of misfits, then. I hope you'll like it here. Please, call me Jana."

"And I'm just Soph," the worgen said, grinning. "If you ever need help, feel free to ask any of us."

"I'm Periell," the shaman said, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time. She smiled, as the others departed, promising to let their other friends know that she was here. Oh, yes. She could get used to this.


End file.
